A letter about life and death
Between the end of September and the beginning of October, my anxiety had skyrocketed. I was feeling extremely overwhelmed, anxious, worried and my body was very tense and in pain. One night, specifically on the 1st of October, I couldn’t sleep because of all these feelings so I decided to write down my thoughts. Just like a did for my Honest letter about life, self love and feeling lost, this is a similar post to it. It’s raw, unfiltered, unedited and it might be confusing but, at first, I just wrote it for myself.
Today, though, I decided to share it. Not for any specific reasons but because I had the desire to. Despite not writing very often on here, I also want to use this blog as a personal diary available to whoever might need it. I’m currently in Australia, feeling better that the night I wrote this letter, but still a bit lost with life. If you are too, remember that it happens and it’s part of life. You are not alone, you are capable, you can do it, I believe in you and life is beautiful and sooo worth living! Never forget that!
Italy, 1/10/2024 sometimes in the middle of the night
I don’t know what I’m feeling and I don’t know how I’m feeling. I just know that I’m feeling a lot. Many things. Many feelings and thoughts that have completely filled my body and mind. That they are turning my body into a painful machine which, in turns, makes my mind go even crazier because I worry about this feelings and pains. I worry what long terms effects they might cause. I worry about dying. I’m actually scared of it. I’m scared of not being ready. I’m scared because I feel like I still have so much that I want to do and visit. But, do I? One of the activities that takes the majority of my mental and physical energy is comparing my life with other people’s. It doesn’t matter who they are. It doesn’t matter if I know them or not. What I know, is that they probably have a better life than I do and therefore I have to compare the two. It’s such a painful process. I wanna cry. I really do. I wanna scream. I really do. But I don’t. Or I can’t. Or both. Crying doesn’t come easy to me. I feel like I want to do it but my eyes are always dry. My mouth is always smiling in front of other people but it’s not always what I’m feeling inside. I don’t know what I want. Or maybe I do. I feel like my body and mind are trying to tell me so many different things that I struggle to unpack everything. I know that getting some help by qualified people could be a very good idea. But I’m scared of spending money. I’m terrified of spending money for something that I “won’t get” or “have my hands on” right after purchasing it or shortly after.
Deep down, I think money is one of my biggest and most painful worries and fears. I fear them on a daily basis. I fear them in relation to my future. I feel surrounded by people talking about money, showing their money, making money, money, money, money. Or, maybe, I try to insert myself into this topic in order to then compare myself with them and just be a big asshole to me.
I do try to enjoy the moment and I do often preach it to other people. The truth is, I struggle to do so. I struggle to ask my mind to take a very quick break to enjoy the moment. To enjoy the sunset, the sunrise, the food, the cooking, the talking, the whatever the fuck I’m doing that moment.
No. I either have to do multiple things at once or try and quiet her down with some videos, scrolling, tv or else. I also really wanna love life. I know that, deep down, I do. I fought once for it.
I was on the verge of losing it. But I won it back. What about this time? Maybe it’s not as evident as the first time. It’s not as “out there” as last time. It’s not in everyone’s face. But it’s inside me. It’s eating me alive and I feel powerless. There are times when a spark of power or energy or determination comes but then I let it fade away. I try to be proud of the life I’ve lived so far and of all the experiences I’ve had the privilege to enjoy. And there are times when I am proud. Deep down, I probably am all the time. But there’s a voice inside my head that tells me that there are other people who have lived it 10x, 100x, 1000000x times better or more intense or more memorable than mine. That in comparison to their life, mine is just a standard, ordinary and out of the book one. And that scares me.
I’m honest. It scares me, it saddens me, it pains me.
The thing is that I don’t even know who I’m trying to compete against. There’s not one single or specific person. There are new people every day who make it onto this endless list of “People better than Daniele”.
Why is it so hard to be proud of their own achievements?
Of their own accomplishments?
Why is it so hard to feel content with our life?
Not content to the point where you just stop trying, improving or living. Just content to a point where you can look back at what you did and give yourself a pat on the back and say “I’m proud of you. You have lived many great adventures that are very memorable and I’m looking forward to all the new ones that will come”. Maybe it’s just hard for me. It’s so easy to feel and believe that we are so incapable of so many things while others are the best of the best and are able to overcome literally anything that life throws at them.
Our mind is a funny thing.
It’s so bloody powerful and so bloody painful. I don’t fully know if it loves us or if it just enjoys making us feel powerless. I’m scared of the future. Of my future. Of its uncertainty.
What should I expect?
Will I actually make it to live it?
What kind of future will it be? A painful one? A joyful one? A content one? An alive one?
I’m actually scared of writing this thing or even thinking about it. About not making it or not being sure until what age I’ll make it. I don’t want to think about it but it’s part of life. We wouldn’t be here if it didn’t exist. But I’m scared of it. I’m really scared. I’d love to get to a point in life where I’m not scared of it. Where I will accept it as a natural aspect of life and will use it as a fuel to make the best of my life. To live it to the fullest. To enjoy it to the fullest. To be happy and proud of it.
So that when the time comes, I can just say “It’s OK”.
I think that one of the reasons as to why I’ve been thinking more about death lately is the fact that two young guys died recently in my town. Two guys younger than me!
One day they were here, probably enjoying their lives, spending time with family and friends, going to the beach and out and about while the next day they were gone. They turned into a thought. A memory.
They are not matter anymore.
Despite not knowing them, I keep thinking about their families, friends, relatives or even people they have lightly and briefly touched. How are they going? How are they coping? Are they able to? Why did it happen? Was it actually necessary? And then I get scared of when that will happen to me. Will they be able to handle it? I think I worry so much about it because I believe that I’m so needed to them that it’s my duty to try and be around for as long as I can. It’s like as if I’ve signed a work contract. Or I probably like to believe that I’m so needed, vital and necessary when, in reality, I’m not because, one way or another, everyone will move on with their lives. As they should be.
When I say all these stuff it’s not because I wanna do something drastic with my life. I said it before and I will say it again, right now, I’m scared of dying. I don’t want it to happen and hopefully it won’t happen for much longer, but you never know and that scares me.
Although, at times I think that it would solve so many issues that I’m having inside myself. But I wouldn’t really get any benefits from it that I would be able to enjoy.
I don’t know what I’ll do with this text. It helped me to write it, or at least I hope it did or will. It drained my body of many energy and hopefully it emptied my mind a little bit. Maybe I will share it with someone. Maybe I won’t. Maybe I will post it somewhere, Maybe I won’t. I’m just happy it’s out of my mind.
Love,
Dani
